An artist’s story

It all began in high school.  Doesn’t everything??  I was an art star.  With my best friend Lynn.  We were the chosen.  Since we were already outcasts of the ‘in crowd’, we were beatniks….this goes back to the fifties so bare with me.  The cheer leaders did not communicate in the same language, nor would they step foot inside a coffee house. We are not talking about Starbucks here, but bongo playing poets in black turtle necks.  I was one of those…

I always knew I was an artist.  However it never occurred to me that it was a career that required a vow of poverty.  I was chosen to submit a portfolio to the Chouinard Art Institute in LA, which was the really hot art school at the the time which was the late 50’s.  So a Saturday scholarship opportunity just made me lust for the entire experience that eventually led me there full time in the 60’s.  From beat to hippy overnite.

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